The Eclipse Lord
by Ace reaper
Summary: Magic is eldritch and grand in nature but men who fancy themselves its master have dulled its true majesty. Soon a conflict will come that will require one who can be a true practitioner of magic. A boy of prophecy, who exists on the precipice of life and death, who wields magic like no other. It is he who will en devour on this grand venture and arise to the mantle of the Eclipse
1. Chapter 1 Humble Beginnings

**Disclaimer Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K. Rowling**

 **First story and one that is intended to be grand in its size and hopefully in its quality.**

 **Chapter One - Humble Beginnings**

He had once heard that the normal children fear the dark…

Harry could not help but think they were wrong to fear that encompassing blanket. That veil that covers all, hiding it and concealing it. Protecting all that it shrouds equally leaving the world in a state of rest. Giving the creatures that spurn the light a chance to enjoy the freedom that the darkness bestows upon them.

Harry felt he must have been one such creature… for he rejoiced at night, not out loud naturally, he did not desire more punishment. Punishment for breathing, for being a living thing, for daring to exist… for being a freak. That was what he was, of course, his 'family' would never let him forget that. When he was little at some point he might have cherished them, sought after their affection, to feel like he belonged.

Now, why would he ever desire something so putrid as their retched attention?

So, it was with his callus covered hand that he reached for the handle of his door, the lock on it long since broken from the abuse of his uncle and slipped out into his prison, from his claustrophobic cell. He was short for his age and he knew it his thin bony body was just one indicator of how his family treated him, the others were hidden underneath long-sleeved shirts that would be baggy on a normal child, same going for his pants. He had no need for shoes or socks seeing as both had holes and where tattered, his skin was always pale, but his hair was like coal. But the true attraction of his face was his eyes, they were enchanting, captivating and one could even say gorgeous but that would be if one could get over how strange the lightly glowing jewels were. His aunt would never admit it, but their beauty was one of the reasons she took him in when he was a baby, also why she bought him glasses to cover them up as he got older. His footsteps where quieter then a cat, he knew from experience. Thus, he crept to the back door and found it locked, as usual, it was here that arguably the second most enjoyable part of his night occurred. He reached for the lock his hand softly cupping around it and his eyes closed, he focused deep within himself before whispering so quietly it could have been mistaken for a breeze over the wood.

"U _nlock."_

And with the command, he felt the bolt inside the door slide away allowing him to open the door and sneak out to the fresh night air. This was his habitat, surrounded by shadow and darkness the true elements of the night like a wreath around him. Finally, at peace he just let himself bask in this gift of nature the soothing feel of the cold creeping into his flesh and causing it to become bumpy and flushed on his face. The darkness allowing his eyes a break from having to shift focus to see something clearly.

He must truly be a freak to only find such solace in the dead of night but that mattered not to Harry, he had tried to make friends once with other people, other kids when he attended school. They were all cowards and fools believing everything his family said about him and fleeing at the mere sight of his fat blob of a cousin. But that was fine with Harry he didn't want to hang out with them, not if that was how they truly were. Harry forgot about reminiscing about the past and just relaxed in the dead of night wrapped in darkness and caressed by cold. Until the moon reached its apex, that was his cue to retreat inside so as not to incur his violent family's wrath. They took any excuse and sometimes just made one up.

So, standing Harry looked up at the moon and smiled at it letting the only light he felt comfortable around wash over him he whispered goodbye to the moon and the night, a cool breeze being his farewell in return. He crept back inside relocking the door and heading for the cupboard under the stairs to rest and recover. Soon day came, it was a weekend so Harry would be put to work with all manners of chores and little food in an effort to leave him exhausted. He knows his family's twisted idea was to drain from him all his energy, so he wouldn't be able to do freaky things, like use his gift, for they were afraid of it.

Sometimes Harry thought they were right to fear it and him. As it was one of the few days where he had finished his chores and had eaten well at school, thanks to a party or some such event with food but Harry retreated to a park and hid to play with his gift. He was playing with a rock wishing he was strong like a superhero, so he could protect himself… his small scarred hand clutching the rock tightly when he mumbled, " _crush_."

The rock was reduced to pebbles and dust surprising Harry as until that point he had only used his gift on his body to heal himself quickly and make the pain go away. It was the first time Harry had a real idea of what he could do.

And it filled him with a burning desire to do more.

But he would not unleash his hate on his family, not yet anyway. They were annoyingly right about one thing, he had nowhere else to go. He would leave them be... for now, if only to stay in a location he knew and was 'comfortable' with. But he knew that the day would come when their allowance of him to reside with them would end and when it did Harry would really give them a reason to fear his freakishness. Let them carry the brand of vengeance upon them delivered on swift and cruel hands.

Harry was shocked out of his stupor of thought when the stomping of heavy feet, that would likely be amputated in the future for medical reasons… or his rage whichever came first, down the stairs. Followed by a giggle from a cruel fat child, next Harry counted down to the yell that would fill the house from his aunt telling him to get out of his cupboard and make them all breakfast. _Heaven forbid that the walking bag of skin filled with bones do anything at all._ Harry thought to himself with spite.

"Pest! Get out here now and make breakfast or so help me!" His aunts squawk rang true and reverberated around the house causing Harry to leave his closet and approach the kitchen making the usual spread for his family he would trim the crusts of toast, cook the bacon into equal splits of crispy and chewy the eggs all sunny side up cooked in the fat of the bacon, the sausages to. The orange juice had to be filtered to remove the pulp, a practice they started simply to make his life more difficult. All this cooked to their bloated sense of perfection and if they found something wrong he would be punished. Then came the task he despised most watching them eat, Dudley and his uncle Vernon where revolting shovelling food into their open gobs like the bloated animals they were. His aunt would pick at it chew it slowly and look as if she despised it, trying to get a rise out of Harry as if he could give a single damn if she choked and keeled over. Then when they were done they would order the table cleared a task that had to be completed briskly less Harry be punished. Then for their own spiteful enjoyment, he was ordered to scrape the scraps and leftovers into the bin. They always bloody smiled to Harry's annoyance, the fact that they still took pleasure from watching a hungry boy throw out food that said boy would happily eat just proved exactly what sort the lot of them were. Then he could eat by their own graciousness. A meal fitting of the freak that was Harry.

Bread and water.

They truly were a sadistic and repugnant group of people.

"Now boy, you listen here you are to do the dishes and take out the trash after which you are to make yourself very, very scarce. I have some business partners coming over today and if I see even a single hair of yours. Well boy, I will make sure you can't move for a week." Uncle Vernon hissed at Harry spittle speckling his face. A nod was his response. "Good, get to it." The order given Harry moved to make it so and at a brisk pace to boot seeing as he was being given permission to leave. Once completed he exited the house so swiftly and silently he wasn't even sure if anyone knew he was no longer inside. All the better for him if he was being honest with himself. He headed to the park the one place where he couldn't be kicked out of… surrey was a small place infested with the lies and hate of his relatives and thus no place for Harry.

Once at the park Harry rushed for his hiding spot it was secluded from others as it was an old shed off the path of the park surrounded by thorny bushes and animals didn't like the smell of the plants as they were somewhat poison, the white stuff inside them was anyway. It was here Harry hid and relaxed it was where he kept his few treasures. A collection which was made up of Books, pictures and stuff he found interesting. His favourite books were ones in other places. He couldn't read to well as he stopped learning after another rather harsh hiding for achieving something, how dare he, but that was when he ceased to even try and thus his intellect suffered after all if one doesn't wish to how are they meant to learn. But his books had nice pictures with the large splotches of numerous words and these pictures showed such interesting wondrous place. Any of them better than the Dursleys.

It was also here that he could practice his gift unhindered.

" _Ignite_." His hoarse voice commanded to the candles and thus they alit with little dancing flames upon their wicks. Harry sat down and pulled out the crusts he stole and held them over the flame to make them a tad more enjoyable. Once cooked to his satisfaction he reached back for a sauce satchel and spurted it onto his meal. Once his stomach was fed he reached for his sword. It was just some sticks he had crafted together to look like a sword, but it got the job done. His weapon in hand Harry left his hideout for the woods outside and saw his dummy. It was a pudgy bag filled with dirt and leaves. It was round and barely resembled a human. It looked just like Dudley. Harry spent his morning beating and attacking the dummy with his sword before growing weary of it only so much rage could be let out through this manner.

It was then Harry realised he wasn't physically tired his stolen crusts helping him stay energised it was with this realization that he looked to the dummy with a malicious grin adorning his face. Harry wanted to try something new with his gift, he heard recently of a word he wished to turn into one of his commands. This one would be different than the others it would be made for one purpose and that was to protect him from others. Rend was defined in the dictionary as to tear, rip, wrench or at least something along those lines as Harry had seen it. So, it was with this word in mind and the action it was meant to perform on the dummy circling his mind Harry began to slow his breathing, his focus turned inwards searching for his gift, time inconsequential at the moment for him. Once he found his gift he grasped it within his mind and channelled it towards his thoughts on rent. Or at least that's how he imagined it, imagination was not something Harry was short on he practically survived on it after all. His gift, the word and the picture of what this command was meant to do secure in his head Harry turned to the dummy and opened his eyes staring intently at the dummy made target.

" _Rend_." He commanded forcefully… only for nothing to happen. Staring at the dummy unimpressed Harry looked inwards again searching for what went wrong. It was not hard to see, as the command in his head was pretty big he needed to give it more energy. "fair enough," Harry mumbled and shrugged in acceptance. Looking towards the dummy he went through the processes again. Breathe, word, image, channel, channel, channel and " _Rend_!" shouted firmly this time causing little tears to appear in the bag. "Oh, great well that's useless," Harry complained sarcastically, annoyed he couldn't get this. Then his mind flashed to a cartoon Dudley was watching once of a superhero or villain making their fingers into claws before slashing them at something. Harry glanced down at his hand grinning his idea rekindled. He prepared to begin the process. Breathe, word, image, channel direct. He could feel his gift in his hand looking down his gift had appeared as claws of light dancing around his fingers sparks of light shooting between the tips he smiled before quickly shifting his face back to one of stern focus as his gift almost started to recede into his body.

To his frustration it didn't stop receding, then his frustration became anger and it stopped fading away grasping the emotion Harry watched his claws return. It made sense to him it wasn't a simple command like 'push' or 'pull' that required little imagination and where self-explanatory. No this was an attack command and should be thought of as such. So, Harry didn't waste time he channelled all his anger and frustration at this difficult process into his gift watching it wrap around his hand again. But that was when the floodgates opened, there was a reason Harry tried to control his emotions less his gift act up and get him in trouble, which oftentimes was responsible for the worst of his scars. But once he thought of his anger it just kept coming, his anger at the Dursleys, at the other children, the bullies, the school, surrey and worst of all his parents for abandoning him to the Dursleys and then the anger at himself for blaming his dead parents, his own self-loathing caused the gift in his hand to become hot and gain weight. Looking down Harry saw it was no longer mere light but a glowing, red-hot maelstrom of crimson wisps and arcs of energy dancing between his fingers and centred in his palm. With tears blurring his vision and his face flushed and a command charged with all his rage, anguish and hate he let the words tear out of his throat in a brutal, high pitched, furry filled roar of a child.

" _REND_!"

The scream left him as his clawed hand swiped at the dummy the energy launching forward tearing up the ground and splitting the air causing a screeching sound to occur before it impacted the dummy shredding it to tattered pieces and launching its detritus stuffing in the air… then the command continued onwards impacting a small tree and felling it. Harry on his knees stared mouth agape at the desolation caused by his newest command. Getting back unsteadily to his feat Harry traced the trail of destruction with his eyes while walking alongside it. It looked like some enraged beast had slashed its claws at the tree and the dummy was just in the way leaving massive gashes in the ground. Harry approached the tree to see it smoking, seems all the extra anger turned the command hot.

"… Cool," Harry stated amazement plastered to his face. He looked back at the dummy waving his hand over the broken remains and in a firm voice ordered " _repair_." Only to get no results at all, seems his command made it difficult for other commands to fix its carnage… that or it was just too destroyed… _food for thought_. Harry suddenly felt exhausted and just decided to crawl back to his hideout and sleep rolling onto his side Harry looked at a picture. It was something he thought about getting rid of often, it was a picture showing the shadows of a family holding hands on the beach. A dad, a mum and a little boy between them holding their hands in front of a golden sunset. Harry still shook from his rage and sorrow rolled over and whispered, " _extinguish_." And his little retreat was plunged into darkness, Harry rested to recover all the energy he had just lost as a result of his violent commands and to try and forget about his rage... and his loneliness.

...

Harry didn't know what time it was when he awoke only that it wasn't morning anymore and that it wasn't midday yet crawling out of his hideout he decided to walk the park and look for stuff and something to do. Harry walked away from his safe little secret out of the back of the park and onto the path heading back towards where the play equipment and picnic areas were. Once there he found it littered with people. Sticking to the outskirt and trying not to get too much attention drawn to his person Harry wandered looking for money, food, items of interest. He didn't go near the kids as they would annoy him anyway, finding a box of matches Harry scooped them up hiding them in his pockets along with a metal spoon, three pounds and a ball. A really luck hall, which was all quickly stashed away on his person. It was then that he saw something that brought back his rage, Dudley was extorting kids out of their toys while parents ever ignorant just kept minding their own damn business paying no attention to a gang of kids going around and picking on their kids. Typical.

Harry wanted no part of this walked away until he heard something that made him take pause. "What? No, you can't have my spade its mine." A young girls voice sounded out offended

Harry looked back his curiosity garnered to see who would rebel against his fat lump of a cousin. He saw a young brown-skinned girl with pitch-black hair going down to her lower back and clasped in her hand away from his cousin was a spade, pretty good quality one seeing how it wasn't a toy but an actual gardening tool. Harry approached slowly to hear better it was then that he got a better look at the girl's clothes, they were ratty, to say the least, and covered in patches. Dudley's gang had encircled her their confrontation escalating the circle ensured no parent would see what was happening. "Now listen here you little runt, I'm Dudley and if I and my friends want something you have to give it to us," Dudley said confidently what he had just said was true.

 _Idiot._ Harry thought.

"Dudley? That's a stupid name it's like your parents were planning on you being a dud, guess they were right." The girl quipped angrily glaring at Dudley's beady little eyes. This girl was quickly growing on Harry. She was not making herself a friend of Dudley however. Once the collection of lard that made up his brain realised what she had said he grabbed her, his friends the following suit with one being smart enough to muffle her with his grubby little hands and dragged her away from the park off to a garden backed by a wall that separated the park from the street. Harry not wanting to see the only kid with a lick of sense come to harm quickly followed them to the space between the hedges and the park wall where they had the young girl pinned to the floor. Harry's anger spike upon witnessing Dudley pry the spade from her hand while the other bullies held her down.

"There see was that so hard you little freak," Dudley spoke down to the interesting young girl.

"Freak, you look like a purple potato with arms and legs, you're the bloody freaky one." Strong cockney accent and a mouth that couldn't stay shut. Harry definitely liked this girl.

"Wait a minute, I know you… you're homeless Hayley." Piers Polkiss a friend of Dudley mocked.

 _Ahhh the naming abilities of children._ Harry's snide sarcasm quipped within his own mind.

"Yeah what of it ya limp noodle looking turd." The newly named Hayley responded.

"My dad told me about you, said that your mum and dad didn't want you, so they kicked you out, kept complaining because he said it's one more dirty curry muncher on the street." Piers mocked causing tears to form in the girl's eyes as she growled and struggled harder. "Well since you're so eager to get away how about we see how you run with the sense beat out of you?" suggested the brat a vile grin on his face. At this point, Harry couldn't let anything more happen as the fear on the girl's face became too much. Walking into the clearing he made sure the others heard his last footstep.

"Huh, oh it's you buzz off freak we're busy or did you want the next beating." Dudley taunted, Hairy merely quirked an eyebrow at his annoying cousin before tilting his head to glance down at the girl struggling on the dirt who was now looking to him with trepidation. "Hey, freak I said- "

"I heard what you said Dudley I merely didn't care… let the girl go." Harry ordered his voice devoid of any emotion and his eyes showing only absolute boredom.

"Oh, don't worry freak we're about to after she coughs up a few teeth," Piers stated jumping into the conversation his hands grasping at the girl's ratty top as he yanked her small frame off the ground.

"No, she will be leaving here unharmed and you're going to let her," Harry stated, the monotone never leaving his voice as he stared the group of boys down.

"Yeah well…" Dudley trailed off as he finally met his cousin's eyes and was suddenly sucked into them. Dudley always knew his cousin was a freak if you ever took the chance to gaze into his eyes you would understand. No one normal had eyes like Harry, oh there were people out there with green eyes, he was sure there were even people out there with bright green eyes. But how many people had bloody glowing green eyes? Eyes that when you look at them, just sucked you in and made the rest of the world cease to be. Because once you were in they refused to let you go, it was while staring into Harry's eyes at this very moment that Dudley began to feel a fear that had to be non-existent since that time he had broken Harry's hand under his foot.

When he had broken his cousin's hand those couple of years ago he had gotten lost in those same eyes and seen a fire burning in them. A twisted evil flare, one that desired nothing more than to clutch Dudley's flesh in its burning grasp and turn him into a bubbling charred corpse with sizzling fat and blood pooling around it. It soon followed being lost in his eyes those couple of years ago that he then experienced his cousin whispering something before he was tossed 5 meters backwards into a sandpit. When he got up he saw his cousin had a look on his face daring him to keep coming, but it was something deep inside Dudley that told him to walk away that day and so he did.

Today was not so different, he saw that fire felt that pull urging him to leave but he also remembered the thrashing that his father had given the freak when he told him of what had happened. How he had felt empowered to see Harry thrashing under his father's heel, that feeling lingering in the back of his cruel mind that he and his family, owned this freak. It was this same feeling that leads to a sense of misbegotten courage that fuelled the next words out of his mouth. "No, I won't be." And with that Dudley reach down for the girl tossing her up and forwards where she tripped and fell to the dirt, while in his hand remained here dirty tattered top. A cruel laughe escaped Dudley and the other boys at seeing the poor girl suffer. Harry didn't get the joke. Dudley sneered at his cousin in a way his aunt would be proud of before tossing the former shirt at Harry, "whoops old rag toor it seems sorry bout' that," he commented with a cruel smirk confident in his superiority.

The moment Harry saw the sneer he snapped. It wasn't exactly noticeable but the signs where there, the slight raising of the right side of his face showing off his teeth, a narrowing of the eyes through his glasses and a new trait his right hands fingers moving into a claw as if to cast _'_ rend _'_ not to mention maybe a solitary spark of his gift dancing between his fingers. Harry was glad he had chosen to take a jacket out today as he slid it off and dropped it on top of the girl as he walked past her. His burning eyes never left the group of bullies. "There you got to have your fun now leave." Harry didn't growl but he sure didn't ask politely.

"Nah we can't do that she still hasn't gotten her beating." Piers who was starting to show the signs of a truly deplorable human being gleefully pointed out his eyes pinning the girl with a look Harry couldn't recognize. The other kids where paying Harry a bit more attention since he appeared to be spoiling for a fight with them all.

"Come near her and I will hurt you." Harry hissed at the group.

No one moved a stare down occurring before Dudley sneer turned to a smile. "Get him!" he shouted charging Harry himself. Followed by two boys a short one about Harry's height only beefier and a lanky one close to piers width ways but about as tall as Dudley, Piers was in the back. The lanky one met Harry first and was sidestepped and tripped to the dirt below Haley scampering out of the way. Next, the stocky one tackled Harry causing both boys to tumble to the ground. But Harry's tolerance for pain allowed him to ignore the impact so he could focus on driving his elbow into the side of the boy's throat eliciting an exclamation of pain. Harry tried to roll away from the stunned boy but his cousins boot caught him in the face sending his glasses flying while his nose began to gush blood. Dudley tried again but Harry got free of the other boy and evaded the stomp. Seeing the blurry form of Piers running at him Harry scooped up some dirt and threw it at the boy's eyes, Piers blinded by the assault ran straight into the park wall. Harry was trying to get to his feet when Dudley's shoulder checked him into the wall, Harry felt the back of his head bounce against the same wall as Piers but rather than let the ache bother him Harry lunged off the wall with a child's battle cry and tackled his cousin around the head, forcing the fat bully to fall backwards. With all the boys on the ground, Harry looked over to the girl to makes sure she was safely away or at least running but instead all he saw was her standing there watching. Harry was honestly shocked she was wearing his jumper but rather than bolt away from the danger she was there watching it all happen before Harry could even form a comment or urge her to leave the lanky one had taken advantage of his stupor to smack him in the cheek with a rock.

"Get him!" One of the boys shouted before Harry was beset on all sides by punches and kicks, his small body crumpled to floor his hands protecting his head and his legs his soft stomach. The blows just kept coming down upon him till after at least a minute or two of nonstop blows the kids grew tired and shifted their focus. He heard some talk followed by a scream of a girl and running looking up he saw them chasing the frightened foolish girl farther from the park.

 _Of course, now you run._ Was Harry's thought process as he laid on the floor beaten and bloody. Harry just rested there in the dirt and mud, eyes closed and focused on his gift as he tried to channel it around his body to fix the pain.

But why does it matter? This was just another day in the life of the freak.

 _Lucky me._

 **Updated 10/09/2019.**


	2. Chapter 2 And So We Fall

**Disclaimer Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K. Rowling**

 **The second chapter I would request comment on the opinion of the capital letters for exclaimed words. A yay or nay will suffice.**

 **Chapter 2 – And So We Fall**

The disturbing sensation of an individual's body rapidly healing is something that you can never truly get used to. At least not in Harry's opinion, the squirming writhing sensation of his bones when they were broken or dislocated were certainly the worst though. His shoulder was the unfortunate cause this time as it was slowly being dragged back into its rightful socket. With a pained yelp harry unleashed his agony into the muddy ground as with a click it returned to where it belonged. Rolling over Harry let a smile grace his face as he gazed up into that starry sky. "Hello, again beautiful," Harry whispered to the cool evening once again, his body already feeling energised by the early nighttime environment. A chuckle escaped his chest as a groan when he rolled back to his stomach to get up, his body back to functioning properly but the pain that remained was still very fresh and raw. It took a burning itch and a sweaty brow to pull himself to his feet and even then, it required almost too much for the young child. As Harry began to walk out from behind the garden he realised his uncle hadn't exactly said when the guests would be leaving.

"Well now I can't speak for any other freaks but one beating a day is more than enough for me." Harry impersonated a salesman voice as he spoke to nobody, possible madness setting in. Turning from his original direction of towards the Dursleys, back towards his hideout Harry set off for a brisk pace to his recluse. On the way back, he could see that the park had already become nearly barren of all human life… save Manni.

"Evening Harry." Greeted the old homeless man as he continued on his way pushing a cart filled with everything he owned.

"Manni," Harry responded in turn with but a nod as he kept his gate strong and steady. It wasn't until Harry was sure he was alone that he diverted from the path and into the more wooded area that housed his hideaway. Seeing it gave Harry that feeling of relief one gets after returning home from a long day. Pushing aside the bushes and crawling through the chain-link fence and into his gloriously dilapidated shed. Harry let a smile carve its self onto his still bruised face as he settled down onto his bedroll, staring up and into that black abyss of space littered with glittering jewels that had enraptured humanity for millennia. Harry lay there facing the eyes of the heavens flickering between the stars, his gift in a state of flow. If he was out in the open and someone saw him they would be shocked to see his form giving off the faintest light.

 _It was a good day, maybe a little rough on the body but what can be said concerning that Harry old chap… No good deed goes unpunished_. Harry thought to himself humorously, his head of rough tangled hair falling back onto his knitted hands. Sleep was slowly closing in on him, its intangible grasp on his eyelids pulling them ever downwards. _What, didn't get enough sleep today Harry?_ A snicker escaping his smirking teeth, as darkness enclosed around his world sentencing harry to sleep. _Home sweet home_ , a fitting last thought for a young boy to drift off to.

…

Burning, a dry itchy feeling around his eyes, his mouth scratchy and void of moisture. Bloodshot, pained eyes opened to gaze upon a thickened, black smog consuming all light previously granted by the crescent moon and stars. A crackling sound that seemed to dance within his ears kept echoing around, following the dancing lights that bounced off ramshackle walls with a terrifying familiarity. Then the heat, transferred through some heated piece of scrap and into the juncture of his arm forced his body and mind into full awareness. Harry's body launched upwards a straight stiff spine and head on a swivel to behold the burning hell he had awoken to. Walls already showing cracks holding at bay a burning death, the roof tin holding a deathly ocean of smoke to Harry's small body. Harry made to dash through the small hole of his hideout only to see a burning orange flame creeping into his home… home. This was Harry's home and it was being engulfed in ferocious flames taking from him his safe place, his hideaway, the only place he felt one precious slither of security.

Rage, Fury, Hate and despair swallow the young boy up as he feels like his world is falling around him or rather being engulfed in flames. Then another noise breaks through the engulfing crackling the flames emit, the sounds of laughter and mirth.

Rage… fury… and hate, strengthen their grip around his heart, as Harry approaches the wall closest to the noise. His hands press against the nearly searing wood and his eye glances through the shimmering air to rest upon the culprit. They open with shock before becoming cruel and sharp to show the emotions of his young heart.

Rage and furry devour all trace of mercy or meagre want to forgive as the animal within all men's hearts crawls to the surface and bares its gnashing fangs. With a raised hand and a thrust of his palm, the wall exploded outwards wood and fire raining down upon the malicious adults electing cries of startlement and perhaps fear.

Rage is what he channels as the men look upon him their fear in its infancy, their drunken haze protecting them from seeing the monster before them. But the single most infuriating thing before him was the fat blob of a man known as Vernon Dursley who's disgusting neck rolls sweaty even in the evening cool, rolled as he chuckled boisterously at the scrawny young boy before him. "Hello, you little freak."

Harry does not respond, he feels so much that he does not know how t express these emotions. His silence angers Vernon as the fat man juts his grotesque meaty finger out to point at the small boy's frame.

"You thought you could attack upstanding British children like my boy and his friends, and not have hell to pay for it. Not while good normal folk like myself are around to say something about it." Vernon spoke thumping his thumb at his chest to emphasise his point of as a grumble of agreement came from the other men around him.

Yet still, Harry stood there silent his emerald eyes alight with such copious amounts of furry, of hate, of such pure unbridled loathing that they appear to burn brighter than even the flames of his home behind him.

"Now you listen here you rotten-" Suddenly found that no words would leave his throat and he felt a cold chill drag itself down his spine.

Finally, Harry speaks up his voice just loud enough to be heard over the crackling flames. "Hell?"

"What?" One of the random arsonists behind Vernon queries.

"You said Hell to pay," Harry spoke his young child voice sounding freakishly dead. "I just can't help but wonder what you know about hell... maybe you don't know anything about hell, after all, what would a fat, lazy, vile, repugnant, disgusting, worthless, fat... freak such as yourself know about hell." As harry listed of his insults a smile grew on his face that would not be amiss on the cruellest creatures of hell and when he finally used Vernon's favourite insult on the fat pig himself a sense sadistic joy begin to grow in the boy causing sed smile to stretch into the deranged category, eliciting fear from those gathered before him. The small child still stained with blood from his earlier beating, bearing a deranged smile and bright burning green eyes with flames dancing behind him was a horrid sight to behold.

The men all stiffened some showing the weapons they wielded, Vernon even had a shotgun laying to his right.

"Maybe I should educate you Vernon... give you an idea of just what hell is." These hissed words that Harry spoke were tinged with mirth and cruelty and as he said them the flames of his home crawled forward in an almost unnoticeable fashion seeking to consume the fuel that was his wrath. The immovable sadistic smile taunted Vernon until finally, he could speak again.

"You know what boy." Vernon choked out his voice sounding strained, the shotgun in his hand rising with the volume of his voice. "I am sorry." He spat with a cruel smile filled with yellow teeth marring his fat visage. The gun levelled with Harry's still form, Vernon felt his hands steady as the loaded firearm gave him confidence. "Sorry I didn't do this sooner." The gun cocked. "Any last words?" The man chuckled to the amusement of the rest of the grown thugs.

Harry's cruel smile became an even crueller snarl as he responded in kind with vicious rage. "Just one, 'CRUSH'!" Harry shouted his hands coming together, clutched as if in prayer. All the men before him slammed into one another by an invisible force. But Vernon's gun went off slamming into Harrys body fling it back into the burning flames of his former home. A beat of deathly silence followed the echoing gunshot even the hungry flames seemed muted. The beat passed and the men groaned before one spooked man spoke up.

"What the bloody hell Vernon!" One of the men growled out shoving the bulbous man off him. "You said the kid was a freak not some kind of fucking psychic." Trembles of fear accented the man's speech at unknow show of power that just occurred in front of him.

"Eh shuddup Polkis, I told you he was strange didn't I." Vernon roused his anger red hot at the damn little freak for daring to attack him with his unnatural abilities.

"Yeah, but for fuck's sake man a little warning would have been nice, I mean you've never said he could do something like that." Mr Polkis roused his battered form getting back up on shaky legs copying the others of the small lynch mob.

"It's not like I could of, this other freak told me if people found out about the runt…" Vernon was cut off by a terrifying sound as the pile of flaming wreckage shifted and moved. A small skinny figure ablaze rose from the pile its eyes shining like stars even though flames encompassed them. Those glowing green eyes that shone brightly even compared to the fires that burned around them. The group felt a primal fear settle over them.

The small demonic figures alien eyes bounced off of each man sizing them up in an instant then the young boy blurred wisps of fire trailing his movements. With a deranged laugh, the psychotic young boy screamed at his uncle and the other men. "If you pray to any gods, now would be a good time to do so!"

Harry threw his arms forwards towards the group, the fire following the motion with almost eager speed. Most of the men moved but one man stumbled his body was swallowed by the flames and thrown into a tree with a sickening crack the almost living flames consuming his person with an unnatural hunger. He didn't make a sound as the flames consumed him. He became Harrys first ever kill, but would not be his last… no, not this night. Harry turned towards Vernon and saw him reloading the shotgun. Harry was about to move on him when a cricket back slammed into his shoulder tossing him aside and breaking his arm. Hitting the dirt Harry was unfazed his grinning face looking at his attacker to see Mr Polkis, flicking those same glowing eyes to his right he saw Dursley had reloaded and was taking aim. Calling upon his gift Harry clutched at Polkis with his functioning arm and gleefully shouted out "Pull!"Causing the full-grown man to fly uncontrollably to Harry… or more specifically to the right of him. A gunshot rang and Piers Polkis was now halfway to becoming an orphan as his father's brains splattered over Harry.

Vernon made some choked noise of shock mixed with a sudden gag, Harry was not so inhibited. Pulling his gift into the palms of his hands Harry shoved at the pellet ridden corpse and spat the commanded "push," Causing the freshly murdered corpse to surge forward and take Vernon's feet out from under him, while also bathing him in gore. His shotgun was tossed towards Harry unloaded and out of the way, for now at least, turning his eyes to the remaining strangers as they were the present threat. There were three, one was scared but armed and ready the other was retching and close to Vernon's still grounded body. The last was in the middle of the two and was rushing Harries small blood-soaked form.

Harry chose to deal with the charging man. He chanced a glance behind him and saw the wooden sword that he used to train with, but it was ablaze. Not caring for the moment Harry grasped it his flesh sizzling this time but the pain was nothing but a stray thought, as he brought it to bear on his next target. The man wielded what looked like a wood chopping axe, he was going to bring it down on Harry probably hoping to cut him in half. It left him very open. Harry let his gift gather in his feet and hands. "Push!" Was his first command as his gift pushed out from his feet and into the ground launching Harry forward. Closing the gap between him and the murderous adult, his arms positioned for a horizontal slash with a slight upward curve to it. Just before his wooden weapon would impact the man's stomach Harry roared out one of his most destructive commands.

"Burst!"With that command, Harry's gift surged into the burning weapon and turned the flames into a condensed inferno, the wood into explosive shrapnel and the force of his hit into that of a speeding semi-trailer all focused on this one man's guts. The wooden sword was destroyed but the back of the adult exploded outwards as wooden shrapnel pierced through him and his burning guts launched through the newly made openings. He crumpled to the ground a death rattle sputtering from his throat. The retching man was still dry heaving but now was bawling his eyes out as he looked on in abject horror on his knees. Vernon was nearly back up some of Mr Polkis dangling from his stupid moustache. "Ignite." Harry hissed flames engulfing the shirt and jacket of Vernon sending the man into a screaming fit as he rolled around in the dirt.

"Y-you're a monster… a… a demon." The pale man stuttered from the dirt and bile as he pointed a shaking hand at Harry.

"Mark shut up and get up, so we can kill this freak!" The trembling man with a golf club shouted over the screaming of Vernon.

"Does that idea scare you… that I could be a monster, sent here to kill you all… maybe I'm what you deserve for daring to come here and kill a child... maybe you did kill the kid and I'm just a demon here to take you all to hell." Harry growled back using the conversation as a chance to catch his breath and scare the men even more for his sadistic enjoyment. He was hiding it well but he wasn't sure if he could keep going, he was exhausted and bleeding. The buckshot was lodge all over his meagre frame and the burns on his body were still bubbling.

"We weren't going to kill you… just get revenge for you attacking our kids I swear!" The traumatised man all but screamed in hysteria as he lunged forward to the dirt covering his head as he writhed in his filth. Muttering prayers and firing pleads from his mouth in rapid succession.

"Goddammit! Mark, Mark! Jesus Christ, alright kid, demon, whatever the bloody hell you are. I want no freaking part in this shit, just let me go and you won't ever lay eyes on me again I swear." The man was in over his head, his trembling was worse and the golf club he held was shaking so much it looked to be made of rubber. Harry didn't want to let him go… the man had come to beat a kid to death with a bunch of other adults so he wasn't a good person, but Harry was running on empty and needed to still find a way to get to a hospital.

"Drop the club… and leave but so help me if you cross me I will burn you and everyone you have ever loved... alive." Harry threatened the fires in the clearing flaring that much brighter with his promise of violence.

"Done!" The man's voice broke as he threw the club and ran like a bat out of hell. Harry couldn't help but smile.

He had won.

He finally got back at his uncle.

 _I'm free_...

Was his last thought as a gunshot rang through the air. Harry let out a scream of agony as his body hit the ground face first, his right shoulder was in absolute agony. Looking back, he saw two bobby's walk into the clearing… and immediately help Vernon.

"Vernon, Vernon! Can you hear me." One of them yelled at the smoking blob of a man.

"I'm brunt, not deaf Neil." Vernon roused as he climbed back to his feet, the smaller of the two bobbies helping the severely burnt Vernon stand him stand.

"How did this little runt do all this Vernon, Christ alive is that Rodney! What happened here!" The large constable was scared and it showed in his voice but his hand was steady and aimed at Harry's writhing form. Harry glared back his burning emerald eyes alit with pain and hate.

"The boy used his freakishness on us," Vernon mumbled his face already blistering while his hair smoked on eye had all the flesh around it removed and seemed blacked and bloody, his scrappy blonde hair was all but gone and his moustache was in hell where it belonged, along with the top of his lip.

"Mark!" The large constable rushed to the hysterical man lying prostrate on the ground. "Mark what happened are you ok. Come on buddy talk to me." He whispered trying to calm his apparent friend.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry… I… I d-didn't mean to, I won't do it again, please… no attacking kids, no attacking kids, no… no… no." Marks filthy face looked up and stared straight into Harry's glowing eyes. "Demon." He whispered in a breathless voice. The constable with Mark whipped his head around to glare at Harry's beaten form.

"What, did, you… DO!" The imposing man said as he picked up Harry with one arm shaking him about. A face full of spit was his response. Roaring he tossed Harry away from the glow of the slowly rescinding flames, his mangled body rolling to the feet of Vernon and the other Bobby. Their faces matched the terrifying constables, which is why Harry was unsurprised when they all started stomping, kicking and beating him. Harry felt bones give and pierce his skin, felt what must have been an organ burst and finally a tooth chip in his mouth as he found blood fill up his tiny throat. Unsure of how long the beating lasted, he only knew when it ended when the large constable picked him up and dug his gun under Harry's chin.

"How did you do it you little shit, huh… you some kind of demon. Should I send your ass back to hell then… you- you, unholy little son of a whore!" The man roared his rage at his dead friends granting his eyes a deranged glint that was all to at home in the magical madness of this burning park clearing. Harry, even with one eye swollen shut saw the madness in those orbs of hate… so rather than hold his tongue Harry shot his arms up, an amazing if not excruciating feat as displayed by his sputtering scream that allowed his blood filled mouth to leak that crimson fluid down his chin onto said revolver. Both hands splayed open rested on the man's temples.

"I asked nicely. Crush!" Harry whispered with a smile accompanying his magical command that sent a surge of power through his broken form and into the man's skull. The cruel policeman's head crumpled inwards as if put in a hydraulic press splattering everyone as he collapsed like a puppet with its string cut not a sound to leave his body aside from that of splintered bones and the squishing of grey matter. Harry collapsed on top of the mutilated corpse utterly spent in such agony the likes of which he didn't even know existed.

"BLOODY HELL!" The other policeman shouted almost dropping Vernon who was struck dumb at the sight once again. "Quick run! The kid's witch or something!" The cop screamed his voice cracked and terrified as he dragged Vernon's fat ass out of the clearing and as far away from Harry as he could get. Harry was almost happy to see them go… were it not for the fact that he still owed Vernon so much more... pain.

 _Dammit_. Harry thought not wishing to speak as his throat ached and breathing was an effort. But Harry would not let his revenge slip away without a fight so he rolled over and began to drag himself after them using both his mutilated arms. He writhed and struggled, tried to summon his gift but got nothing, tried to stand on broken legs but had no strength and was rewarded with more pain, tried to find some deep reservoir of energy but had nothing left to give. Harry was spent… but still, he dragged himself toward his enemies.

 _Not yet, you can't have me yet I will not go gently._ The boy argued in his mind against the inevitable.

"Not yet." His choked blood-filled maw rasped as he dragged his beaten body across the ground, a trail of viscera made of his own and other marking his passage. Before Harry could reach the end of the clearing the sound of a shotgun being cocked echoed out. It may as well have been as loud as thunder for how it pierced the night, it certainly caused Harry to pause. Too tired to move his head back Harry listened to the sound of footsteps, shaky and unsteady they were as they closed in on him.

"No more…" The shaky voice spoke behind Harry as a boot met his stomach gently and rolled him onto his back, the action still cause a flair of hurt but at least it wasn't a deliberate kick or some other attack... Harry wasn't sure he could take it. There standing over him with Vernon's shotgun was Mark the traumatized man was covered in filth and seemed to have no tears left to shed, his crazed bloodshot eyes being the remnants of his breakdown. You could see it on his face he was lost… broken. "No more," He whispered pointing the gun at Harry. Harry still fuelled by rage shot his broken arm out an clutched the gun barrel, startling Mark whos other hand flailed for the trigger.

Harry groaned gaining the fumbling man's undivided attention."If you shoot… you better hope it kills me… because what will follow if it doesn't…" Harry let out a rasping chuckle. "Well just look around you." He stated his eyes shooting to the three corpses still cooling behind him.

"No more…" Marks responded quivering, those words seeming to be all he was capable of as he stood there the gun not even shaking as it was clutched in the hand of its next would-be victim... Time stood still the noise of crackling embers and the wind through the leaves non-existent as the standoff occurred. Then without taking his eyes off Harry mark swung the shotgun up until the barrel was digging into the soft pallet inside his mandible. He looked at Harry one last time and spoke his voice clear of hysteria and strengthened with certainty.

"Monster," he hissed. Then, for just a second, Mark's eyes appeared sane.

BANG!

Then gun exploded launching the insides of Mark's head into the air before they rained down like such gruesome rain. With an air of finality Marks body hit the earth and didn't move the thump almost seemed to echo and like that Harry's vengeful massacre was done...

The sound of beeping from marks corpse drew Harry's rapidly fading attention, with a herculean effort he dragged his head around his hazy vision landing on a watch beeping showing the time... it was midnight. Harry could feel his hearts heavy thumping and more importantly, he could feel it begin to slow, the blood in his veins felt thickened and began to cool inside his body. The buckshot where like tiny little burning pinpoints in a growing abyss of numbness, they were like massive stars in his universe as they were what stood out against the surging loss of feeling. Harry was annoyed that he couldn't complete his revenge but he had given back some of the pain he had received over the years.

His thoughts were slowing and vision was blurring he couldn't tell if he was breathing any more, his world was numb even the buckshot pain was fading. He heard a beeping happening not far from him again, an electronic noise that did not belong in his last few moments among the living. Hazy eyes refocusing to glance at the aggravating noise he saw a watch of one of his victims blinking midnight.

A smile, so small and fragile that it was unrecognizable under the filth and gore and pain, but a smile nonetheless etched its way on to the dying boys face accompanied by a simple humorous thought.

 _Happy birthday, to me_...

It was with this, his last thoughts, that Harry Potter died.

His heart stopped beating and his last breath escaped grinning lips and all the fires in the clearing proceeded to burn out as more time passed and like that… the young boy was no more.

Clouds up above slowly moved to blocked all lights from the heavens, embers and cinders slowly perished their light fading until all in the clearing was engulfed in darkness. It was then that Harry's blood a metallic crimson pool surrounding the small child began to change from crimson to an ebony fluid undetectable in the complete darkness of the clearing. A chill crept around covering everything but the small child's body in a layer of frost. Without ceremony or warning, the pool of former blood began to let out a smog-like gas and Harry's corpse with eternal slowness sunk into its depths… submerging and disappearing from the world altogether. When the clouds cleared there was no trace of Harry Potter at all… no blood, nobody and no home.

Just a mysterious murder scene and a brunt up old shed.

He was gone.

 **Updated 10/09/2019**


	3. Chapter 3 With Strange Aeons Even Death

**Disclaimer Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K. Rowling**

 _ **Right, the third chapter so I suppose I should give the warning that this is where the story becomes heavily AU and it will diverge heavily on lots of things, but it is still centred in the world of Harry Potter. Also, I would ask for some critiquing of any sorts or just a comment in general, please.**_

 _ **Chapter 3 – With Strange Aeons Even Death**_

Harry was engulfed by an alien sensation around his whole body… no, not his whole body just something deeper… something so deep he couldn't grasp its concept. This alien part of him for lack of a better word was being squeezed. Harry couldn't open his eyelids they were simply too heavy, and his body was made of stone. He just floated aimlessly unable to feel anything, no concept of time or space, he was his own entire universe. Unaware of how much time had passed all Harry knew was that the squeezing feeling had not abated and was unlocatable, even though he had been trying to find it for an age. Hence the surprise Harry felt when after what felt like an endless eternity the strange sensation abated without warning and as it left so did the weight over his eyes. Finally, able to open them Harry saw something that took his breath away. Stars… stars everywhere blanketing the black background that surrounded everything and every way his eyes darted there were more and more. It was beautiful.

Harry moved his head around in awe basking in the heavenly beauty around him as his body began to turn in this star speckled space. Oh, how he would come to wish he hadn't turned. The stars began to fade, slowly at first… but then there were a mere few stragglers that stuck around before a horrific blackness devoid of all light and ever-expanding was all that graced his sight. At its centre was a circle, no not a circle but a strange planet, a sickly ash grey rock encompassed by a burning blood red light. The planet was littered with specks of light that must have been massive fissures filled with liquid fire revealing the alien worlds molten innards. It looked as if the planet had been physically beaten and had open wounds all over it. Harry hoped his body would keep turning but it didn't, instead, he was stuck staring at this planet wrapped in fire. As he got closer it hit, a sense of dread and fear but worst of all something he couldn't understand, it was everything it was nothing it was incomprehensible and it was screaming inside his mind in a cacophony of torment so extreme he would put his fist through his own skull and wrench his grey matter out to end it.

Harry suffered through this torment for seconds or years it mattered not time was nothing in this space as he approached this planet of torment. His suffering ceased only when he reached the atmosphere of the planet. As he sped up and hit it he could feel his body re-enter into the burning air, his focus wrenched from the agony of his mind to the agony of the physical world. He screamed, this time out loud, as the fire encompassed his body and raced down his throat. His skin was removed in seconds, his muscle was cooked, burnt and disintegrated. His throat was filled with fire, burning ash and boiling blood that accumulated in his lungs and stomach before bursting said organs and spreading the agony throughout his whole torso. But it was the physical agony in his head that he focused on, he was grateful for the fire that boiled and burst his eyes, that melted his ears to his skull and the fire in his head that caused his brain to sear, char and flambé killing the mental hell he had to endure earlier all together, not a memory of it to be found in this new agony. His body was not only burnt it was stretch twisted and battered as it fell through the black burning skies of the dead planet. The hellish burning seemed to have no end, Harry could feel all the fingers on one of his hands burn to ash and blow away in the wind. That was until his body smashed into the surface of the planet with a resounding thud and a small explosion of ash, dirt and embers erupted from his small crater. Harry knew no more after that.

…

It was a strange being who awoke from that flaming hole in the ground, its mangled body dragging its battered being out of its crater and onto the surface of this alien hell. No longer just Harry Potter this creature was not human, its form changed by the hell it had experienced. Now, what stood there was a charred corpse no longer the size of an eight-year-old but rather closer to that of an adult man but warped and stretched as if it was put on a rack and its body forced to be this way. The skin of its body was black as coal and lacked hair, ears and a nose. Where Harry once had those magical green eyes that enchanted any who gazed into them for too long… there were now black soldering craters in his charred skull. And so, it was that this warped creature now devoid of all its senses felt a pull, deep within its self this new creature formerly known as Harry James Potter christened in fire, agony and fear began to march towards the source of this new pull. Its head full of whispers none of which were its own marched on through a desert of ash and death. Its footfalls left behind charred prints in the dead planet's surface, its breath was ash and embers each one sounding like a wail of loss.

Time did not exist on this planet… not anymore. As the creature walked it listened to the voices as they spoke and showered it with tales and knowledge. They spoke of this world back before it fell, when it flowed with magic and knowledge. Back then however long ago then was, life flourished on this planet magic and miracles were common and as society flourished people prospered. They fought no wars, food was plentiful, crime was all but non-existent and the gods watched over them. As near paradise as one could get, at least it was until one day when a visitor from another world arrived. He appeared claiming to be a powerful necromancer that all should fear, or he would unleash death upon this world. He proceeded to flare and flourish his magic in an attempt to make those that were before him submit to his rule. A necromancer from this world came before him and struck him across the face, the visitor from another world went to strike back but found himself already dead and his form to be that of a mere spirit. The residents of this plane laughed at the foolish outworlder, to try and scare them with such meagre talent. The necromancer from another world was enraged at being so shown up and maddened by rage he tried to possess the necromancer who had slain him but was struck back by magic from all those who were watching. Seeing that he had gravely underestimated this world he tried to flee. He made it halfway through the portal when something grasped his form and ceased his escape. Looking back, the foolish outworlder bore witness to a god made true.

One of the four Unborn, gods of death known on multiple worlds who are so powerful they can shape the very universe around them and have consumed death to become it in turn. They were worshipped as the pinnacle of the pantheon on this world for while the inhabitants of this planet had their own gods, the Unborn where the gods of gods and were not bound to one world alone. The Unborn to capture the coward was the one who brings to life the moment of silence never shed for those who die in fury. Whose voice sung to the last trembling beats of those ripped from life in a moment of hate and wrath. His name was Typhon, the maddened calm sitting upon his throne of wretched angels. It was he who captured the failed usurper and ceased his cowardly escape.

But before their beloved lord could pull the failure of a necromancer back into the world of magic and might, the damnable fool collapsed the magical gateway upon himself sundering his soul and essence across multiple worlds to decay and be erased. Sadly, though Typhon would think himself unaffected in truth, a part of his grandeur had been sent to some distant world where it was found by a being beseeched by greed and pride. It was in his foolishness that he, seeking to dominate an Unborn, summoned forth our god Typhon to his world and in doing so sentenced this one to its death.

The voices all talked a lot about that day, they talked of how when the sun was eclipsed, and the world plunged into darkness it all began. The planet itself shook in fear at what was occurring and from the temple of the Unborn, a massive sinkhole appeared that filled up from the inside with liquid shadow. The black substance began to bubble and boil and suddenly from it as if forcefully pulled by chains arose an infuriated god. Typhon in his horrible might was pulled into their world not just in a spiritual sense but rather his full physical might, was made present. The wind in the air became like razor blades heated in a furnace, the sky rained fire and toxic ichor while the waters became searing acid that ate at everything. Any who looked upon Typhon in his fury became enraged and turned on their fellows and family before tearing them apart with their bare hands. Animals shifted and mutated into nightmares and freakish demons. But then our Lord in his strain let loose a roar filled with such primal hate and raw fury that people who heard it fell to the ground as their brains leaked out of the orifices on their faces in some horrid display. At the end, when Typhon was almost fully free from that black pool, only a few tar-like strands holding his godly might prisoner, everything on the planet was dead. The planet's integrity was beginning to fail as the ground crumbled and massive fissures filled with molten hate appeared. The poisonous seas evaporated into the heavens combining with the ash and fire to paint the heavens black. But the true horror occurred when Typhon was pulled from that black sea, the clutches of his brothers broken as they would dare not leave their realm and worsen the state of things. It was at this moment that the barriers between life and death became irrelevant, broken and dysfunctional. While Typhon looked upon the horror he had wrought on the world he and his brothers had come to enjoy he felt grief for his hand in its destruction.

But Typhon was not a god for nothing and while he could not repair the damage he was wrought on this world he could ensure that whoever caused this was punished. Refusing to let his summoner win Typhon split himself in two leaving the vast majority of his godly power and knowledge here on this dead world, while sending his rage and thirst for death to whatever it was that summoned him forth. Once done Typhon unleashed his wrath into the heavens where using the magic of the eclipse it tore through space and time to arrive upon the world of the summoner. Typhon tried to command it to kill the summoner and return but his creation was not just his rage. In his haste for vengeance, Typhon had erred and given the beast his loathing for the summoner and himself for the death of this world. The monstrous new Typhon turned to the portal it had left through and wrenched space back into place sealing the portal closed and the world that the new Typhon had left to unreachable. The true Typhon horrendously weakened for what had occurred and broken from his mistakes screamed his fury to the heavens alongside the infinite collection of dead souls and with their power combine, Typhon sealed himself into a statue like a form so that he could make no more mistakes and he would not split further.

After that, the voices did not know what occurred to the new Typhon only that the souls looked up into the scar in the sky… hoping for one day the return of their lord's other half so that he can be made whole and reunited with his grieving brothers. They told many stories of the way things once were but when they did it was filled with longing and grief. The creature formerly known as Harry felt sorry for these voices as they were very helpful at keeping him from being lonely. He wished from time to time that they were quieter in his head, but it was easy to tune out a lot of the background noise when he wished, after all, he had few thoughts of his own now in his eternal march to this foreign pull. He once asked if these creatures knew where it was that he was going, he was given but one response from the voices so numerable there may as well have been one for every star in the universe.

"You go onwards lost lord," The voices answered with conviction. The creature was strengthened by their conviction and walked onwards with more vigour to his unknown destination.

It didn't know how it knew but the creature was close to where it needed to be. It remained unable to feel anything but still, it knew that where ever it now stood was where it was meant to be. The creature knew that it was stood in front of something special. But the creature knew not what to do, the voices were arguing with each other… they had been doing so ever since he drew close. With no senses to guide it the creature stood there unsure of what it was it was supposed to do now. It knew that it was drawn here for a reason but for what reason could that possibly be. So, it stood there and for the first time in an unknown eternity, it felt something.

It felt time, it felt lost and confused it knew that it stood there and that its body was tired. It knew that it had no more energy left to devote to this random wandering and that it was time things ended. The creature wanted to quit but at the same instant, something kept compelling him forward. So, with a stuttering gate and a step, the creature took one more step with everything it had left. This final act brought this mighty lost soul to its knees, its mangled body collapsing in the ash and dust of a dead world. The creature felt hollow and unfulfilled. All this wandering to amount to nothing and with those thoughts, even the compelling pull began to wane into oblivion.

It was then that with no more pull, no more drive and an inability to press onwards that a flicker of something could be seen. It was not something as cliché or as bland as hope or dreams. But rather a feeling of something far more primal, more ancient and sacred. It was the indescribable sensation of curiosity, of a horrid fear and a pulsing rage. It was this strange and unknowable melding of these compelling drives that urged this feeble and piteous being to push its vile hand forward and dig its misshapen fingers deeper into the miserable soil of this lifeless planet. Anchored into the land bereft of life the creature dragged the rest of its wretched carcass onwards to its unknown goal. It kept this going the strange merging of rage, curiosity and fear grew to encompass the sensation of confidence and along with the addition of a drop of hope turning this burning mixture into a raging inferno of an amalgamation.

Slowly this creature, this pitiful being, formerly being known as Harry Potter, forced itself towards a pointless goal as intangible as a dream with no way of knowing if it was in anyway a truth or a lie. But still it moved through the filth of this cadaver of a world and the whole time to a cacophony of screaming voices in conflict with one another but for once the being didn't have to try and blank them out. No, for its mind was no longer a blank space. It was a roaring blaze that now included pride, greed and strangely enough love. The creature's mind was so bright by this point that is submerged everything in its light and it was then that the creature remembered what it was that this light was.

This was a star.

So, with the pulsing warmth of its inner star, the creature shot its arm up one last time, knowing its goal was within reach the misshapen being reared its torso and head up letting some abysmal mixture between a roar and a groan of intense agony escape its maw, the creature slammed its brutalised appendage down.

The limb sunk into something thick and viscous. It sunk slowly and in a foreboding manner deep into this truly eldritch substance.

Suddenly the creature was no more.

Now there was no creature, there was no Harry Potter, there was something new. This new entity being built up from the wretched body of the creature and the broken memories of Harry Potter. The eldritch liquid flowed not just over flesh and bone but deeper. It wrapped over his very soul as it circled the star that was himself and it was like everything this being is was growing. A door opened and suddenly the being knew what was, its name was Harry Potter, it had been killed, it had felt such agony, it was then a pitiful wretch of a creature, it had been lost for an incomprehensible amount of time and now it was found.

Forced out of its recollection of events the being rose to its warped feet, slowly but surely it stood proud beholden for all to bear witness its horrifying visage a testament of new found power. The lost souls of this world watched as the liquid abyss rushed over his form, rivers of its inky blackness surged over the scarred tortured body curled and clutched over its disjointed throat until finally, making it to the face where those alien tendrils reared back like murderous serpents pausing but for the briefest of moments. Then with cold indifference plunging through the burnt-out husks of the being's eyes, melted shut mouth and after a short delay, the holes that were once ears were also penetrated. It was a pain that the creature was unfamiliar with, but nothing compared to the agony it had once been forced to embrace. But it was when those cool tar-like tentacles reached the severely damaged brain that the being finally reacted.

A pain not felt in a lifetime, not since Harry Potter was orbiting this alien world ricocheted through its quickly reforming mind. But this entity forged from death and tempered by hellish pain would not succumb where the mortal Harry did. An agonised howl ripped free of this star like soul and into the alien ichor, it echoed in this new space that surrounds the pulsing solar body that was the entity. Space and time froze while the black ichor turned rock hard before a heat began to course through it and into the entity. Slowly the ichor retreated out of the body of the being and sunk back into its pool of unknown but now possessing an ethereal like quality. It was only when everything was still again that the entity realised it had been blessed with sight. Slowly the beings head turned up to gaze at what this pool surrounded.

It was a monolithic statue in appearance made of a strange onyx-like substance. A statue so grand in size that its head reached the sky and the blackened clouds were forced to deviate around it allowing a glimpse at the blackened reaches of the void with a few dotted stars about. The statue was so lifelike it was terrifying. Its head was adorned by two horns that arched over its skull and had a spiral quality to them, their shape forming a halo to top off this work of art. Below its crown of horns was a skeletal face it was human-like in appearance almost were it not covered in ridges and so angular. The extra eyes and many holes going up the centre also detracted from its human qualities. The statue was looking up into the void one strange arm grasping at the heavens, the hand itself only possessing four fingers that were in a claw-like positioning on the hand. The creature also had two forearms and two elbows giving the arms extra length. It was captivating to stare at those arms their appearance that of steel cables with multiple smaller cables coiling through them. The shoulders had these strange sharp juts pointing outwards on them giving it shoulders that were broader than its arms. The chest was completely alien, it was chitinous looking and had a singular massive ridge that ran down its entirety. The lower half of the creature was one of the most horrifying aspects of the entire monolithic structure. Serpents, thousands upon thousands of long violent looking serpents with rows of tiny shredder like teeth in their mouths. Each serpent had no visible scales and only some had eyes… or eye in one or two cases that the entity could see. Not to mention some had pointed dart like noses whereas others had these axe like heads but the vast majority of them descended down into the alien ichor and where hidden from view. The last and only defining feature that the new being could see was two chitinous protrusions that extended upwards from the back of the statue and had a slight deviation of angle about halfway up. All in all the new being was almost certain of what it stood before.

This was the corpse of Typhon one of the four Unborn gods of death and this was where this world came to a cataclysmic end. A monument to the sins of the foolish and a tragedy to the Unborn. The new entity lowered its head in respect before turning to the devastation that was everywhere else. Behind it was its own footprints already being covered up and disguised in the wind of this eternal desert. They followed a straight path down what would have once been a street that was surrounded on all sides by massive buildings ravaged by time and other elements. The world was bleak and grey. The sky filled with the fiery black clouds in a constant state of disarray. This was the theme that followed everywhere the being turned. It was incredibly distressing to see something that had once been so beautiful reduced to a special kind of hell.

A nudge at the feet of the being caused its distorted skull to glance down and see the blackened alien liquid had risen from its origin as if it had an increase in volume. It now was lapping at the heels of this new being. Bending its broke and misshapen legs down the being sunk a singular elongated hand into the fluid, which once submerged felt a pull dragging the appendage to the centre of the pool. Not one to ignore the sensation of a pull on this dead world the creature rose up and strode into the pool its scarred, burnt and charred flesh slowly submerging as the pool got deeper. When the creature was deep enough into the pool that the bottom of its caved in rib cage was just barely touching the surface of the eldritch substance it paused and waited for the liquid to still. Once all was again frozen the wind died off and even the clouds up above ceased their writhing nature. It was then that the fluid stirred and the being realised it was not alone in the pool, for out of its depths rose a serpent that was very familiar. Only this one was not made of stone. Its massive frame was far superior to the beings, its head alone was larger than the fused entity. Without warning the creature lunged ahead cutting through the black ichor and encircling the warped lower half of this unlucky lost soul. With a titanic roar to the sky and the being firmly in its scaleless coils it dove back under the surface and a few moments later the pool was still again.

The being that was a combination of Harry Potter and the wretched lost creature, was once again gone… thrust into the unknown.


	4. Chapter 4 May die

**Disclaimer Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K. Rowling**

 **So, fourth chapter yay! Umm thanks to my follower's you guys are champs. My apologies for the weird alien world crap but it will hopefully slot into my story rather nicely later even though right now I know it looks like word barf with all the creature and being crap. Points that matter is upon Harry's death he got yanked into a different place then yanked down onto this dead world as a lost soul and now he touches something he shouldn't so shits about to get a lot more solid again with actual you know dialogue and interaction. Also going to be introducing some OCs that are very important, so I hope they are not bland or just irritating. Also sorry for the delay had to do some moving plus uni issues and job hunting and basically, I'm a hungry broke bitch.**

 **Chapter 4 – May die**

Sinking deeper and deeper into a thick black ichor, the suffocating sludge like substance pressing in and constricting the new being the serpent becoming one with the substance that was compressing the new alien creature. Lower and lower it sunk into the depth before a sudden piercing pain began in its misshapen forehead. An alien thing in this oily abyss radiated out from its scarred and misshapen forehead, light followed by sound began to emit. First, a green light that sung of death and hate and pain long past, then gold that radiated warmth and love and rang with the power of self-sacrifice. Finally, some pathetic wisps of grey smoky light dribbled from the old wound accompanied by the sound of pathetic wails and pained hisses. As the being sunk lower and lower the light continued to emit as did the mixing of sounds. The creatures journey down ended with an impact on the soft ground of this black sea, all but the grey light since ceased their showing while the grey only grew in volume. Slowly it slithered out and down to the ground writhing into a shape, then a form followed by a concept and finally an idea. It was slim or emancipated, it looked like a paper cut out of something that was once humanoid it held no distinct features aside from two small glowing points on its head that took the human position of eyes.

The being stared at this wisp that had formed within it. Curiosity drove it to move forward and investigate this new development but before deductions could begin the wisp leapt towards the being bringing down the appendage meant to replicate an arm across the torso of being in an attempt of an attack. The wisp had no physical means of causing damage, but intent meant something in this broken realm and thus the being felt its body torn into. Gone was the state of naïve curiosity found was the rage and desire. The being grabbed at the wisps appendage, the one that dared to strike him and yanked with strength and hate that resulted in the removal of the limb. Agony emanated from the wisp and the appendage was dispersed in the inky surroundings.

The wisp struck back its head whipping forward and sinking into the beings. Thoughts and ideas, it did not own nor know where torn from its head and into the wisps. The being brought its legs up and kicked away from the wisp granting it the separation from the wisps intrusive gathering. The small red eyes had grown in magnitude and emittance their crimson shone with new intelligence and understanding. Without warning the wisp brought its remaining arm to bear and the being was rendered helpless as a surge of force blasted it backwards and onto its back. As he climbed back to his feet the being witnessed the wisp summon their surroundings into itself the eldritch fluids giving it a body and granting its will a physical form. The being recognising this process as the same that was bestowed unto himself lunged forward with primal fury tackling the wisp to the floor and separating from its concentration. He rained blows down upon its defenceless form but even as he tore and damaged it the eldritch fluid continued to sink into the wisp. Once the grey had disappeared and now a black body with grey outline was made a blast of force launched the being away once more an up higher into the abyssal ocean they found themselves in. Below him the wisp was no longer spectral it had a body and strength it gazed up at him with hunger and desire and the being felt something new from it. A name, this thing formed from his own insides dared to have something he did not. With a fresh spark of rage the being opened its jagged jaw and let out a wretched bestial howl that tore through the fluid and slammed the despicable named thing into the sediment of the floor.

The rush of envious hate gave him a power which the being used with his arms tearing at the liquid for purchased he clawed his way to the named thing and slammed his own mass into it. The clash began the wretched beings sharp and twisted body clawed and shredded the solid former wisps each jagged broken part etching its way through the named things form. But the named thing did not go silently now blows of forceful intent commands demanding distance struck the being and tried to dislodge him only to be met with the indomitable desire to stand strong and not be shook. Seeing its attacks fall short the named this opened its now solid maw and bit into the twisted neck of the being. Suddenly weakness and subjugation slimed its way through the space around the being's star and echoes of names unknown began to take up positions of precious hate. The being torn its neck from the maw to see it had grown sharp jagged implements hanging from the roof of its clutching jaw. Whispers of the named things corrupting being now where trying to weaken the beings hold on itself to make it lost once more. Voldemort, the named thing had taken a memory the being had never known nor possessed and somehow made itself whole on that alone. Realising the being was outclassed and quickly losing itself to the corruption of the named this the being looked inwards to try and find its own memory its own solidifying force.

While it did, however, Voldemort attacked again causing the ocean to crash into the being from all sides its arm conducting the motions of force and energy to batter and destroy the being hunger driving its moves to be sharp and powerful which in turn tore the beings skin and flesh and clawed its strength into his form. But the being did not have to search for grasping the only name it knew that of Harry Potter it found the word of magic which it quickly followed to the power the force wielded and now with names at its disposal the beings lunged back to the outside being greeted with pain and damage Voldemort was wailing upon him. Whatever part of his being that granted him sight locked onto the other arm of Voldemort and watched its rapid movements. Its target locked his vision became tunnelled as it spoke with vitriol within _"crush."_ Voldemort's remaining arm was swiftly reduced to a lump of flesh dangling from his shoulder and the waves of force ceased to crash over the being's form. Raising back to his true height the being used the break to attack. _"push"_ cause the being to surge forward as the ground behind him was torn asunder. His mass slamming into Voldemort's pained one sent them both tumbling. The being clutched the tumbling Voldemort and raised him up above his head, his momentum carrying them both up and away from the alien ocean floor. With a sound of exertion and the command of _"push"_ emitting without noise the broken form of Voldemort was flung back down with a massive quantity of black ichor to crush him beneath its weight.

The being hung there, floating above its defeated foe glaring down with rapturous hate its charred skin now adorned with new injuries to add to a countless assortment of them. It slowly sunk lower and lower to its defeated foe cautious all the while. Which is why he was not surprised when Voldemort lunged forward to bite his foot. Instead, its maw was met with ready hands, which grasped its open mouth and halted their chomping motion. But it didn't end there. With a slow release of strength and a building exertion the being pried that mouth wider and wider. The first sign was a pop, then a crack and finally a second crack followed by a tearing sound he didn't hear but felt all the same. The mandible of the freshly formed Voldemort was ripped and barely hanging onto the skull of Voldemort whose rage and strength were now all but gone. But the beings rage remained. Tightening its already vice-like grip on the mutilated mandible the being began to slam Voldemort into the ocean floor the sediment like earth splashing up around them and mixing with the thick ichor the ground shook with each impact and slowly, but surely grey thick mist mixed with their black surrounding bleeding from the body of Voldemort. Each impact was stronger than the last, each blow to the ground causing a larger and louder shudder to emanate from the point of collision. It was a shock when the rumbling to a life of its own and a head-splitting crack shattered the ground below them dragging the being and Voldemort down. Without warning the two were now in free fall free of the pressure of the ichor and tumbling at the whim of gravity and rushing wind.

Voldemort saw this as his chance with a snarl of stubbornness an arm tore itself free of the confines of his new flesh and stabbed into the being digging into a scar from another life located on his forehead. With this action came a surge of new power siphoned from the being and into Voldemort, this action was not taken without rebuttal however the being clutched the arm and used it to twist his falling form to be on top of Voldemort's. Once more, their grappling was a cacophony of blows and magic blasts, as they fell the sky was made true with thunder and light. Finally, the grapple broke, both combatants flung from each other's reach, but power and intent still blasted outwards from each the air crackling and rage steaming into the nearby atmosphere. But still, they fell. They clashed time and again they hurled bolts of will and stubbornness and shot barrages of hate and hunger. They beat, clawed and mauled one another. Still, they fell. Finally, the ichor broke apart and the sky they now existed in was revealed in all its glory. A metallic bronze sky to surround them as they fell into a bowl of coalescing city's twisted by space and time, buildings colliding and merging, castles crashing into skyscrapers and parks consuming streets. As the fell deeper into the bowl the being saw they were finally approaching a destination. A podium centred in the middle of this chaos. More of a cylindrical raised platform but it was called a podium of this the being was sure. Like a strike of lightning a plan was formulated within and his star shone with strength, determination and confidence like a solar flare blasting out through the command of _"push"_ the being shot lower and closer to the quickly approaching ground with two more _"push"_ he was directly under Voldemort. Turning around so he was facing up the being suddenly spread his whole body, the sudden surge of drag caused his elevation to shoot up drastically and like that he impacted the form of Voldemort. With his arms clutched tightly around his torso and his own maw clutched around Voldemort's neck, broken jagged teeth tearing flesh asunder. Their impact was imminent. The ground beckoning. Gravity ushering. With but a split moment to spare the being proved himself superior and hurled Voldemort forward with all his strength giving him that much more acceleration. But the motion of throwing allowed the being to splay his hands in front of him and with his sun roaring with power he let loose the command _"push"_ and Voldemort crashed into the podium with all the force of a lightning bolt made physical the after effect is the shattering of the podium in its entirety while the beings fall was halted completely. The being fell approximately ten meters to the earth and hit the incline created by Voldemort's crater causing a loud series of cracks before he slid half a meter and came to a stop.

It was a wet hissing noise that caused the being to stir from its crash landing. Its neck now even more destroyed cracked as his head lolled to the left his sight landing on the smear that was all that remained of Voldemort… or so he thought. Slowly Voldemort crawled up the crater. His body was devastated, his arms gnarled and broken fingers pointing the wrong way and his torso had actually torn away from his waist which had stuck to the floor. Trailing behind Voldemort was a black and grey trail of his essence. The being sat straight up his spine realigning in an instant, he rose to his legs twisting one of them back around to face the right way and then stomping some bones back into his other foot. He yanked one of his arms forward before shoving it back into its socket. He simply snapped his right arm off at the elbow seeing as it was destroyed completely. He trudged onwards to the crawling figure, using his one remaining arm he relocated his head upright with a wet popping noise before jabbing his neck to make it straight once more. Finally, he made it to the top of the crater and there he saw Voldemort crawling for the edge. With two steps he was on top of him, his one arm reaching down to clutch the back of his neck. With a twist and a jerk, Voldemort's neck was snapped where he dangled, a wet splat as he was dropped to the floor. That should have ended it the being didn't know why but it should of, this was the prevailing thought as he witnessed the broken neck on the said body being dragged along by a clawing hand. With a silent fury, a foot crashed down on the arm snapping it thoroughly. The being grasped the other and wrenched it free of Voldemort's form. But still, the annoying parasite writhed forward, some desperate attempt to escape or merely a last hurrah to bother this infuriated being. It mattered not the being snapped, all the same, a new are milled into being with wrought flesh and fury incarnate. One limb to hold up the wretched mutilated form of his first opponent the other was plunged with merciless glee into the body and dug around like serpent in a tunnel before clutching something immaterial.

Core, being, heart, mind, body, magic, power, soul, spirit… Voldemort.

Wrenching out with a spray if essence to cascade around him the being held it to the heavens and constricted it between sharpened digits a feeling of the conquest of domination of pure power echoing from his suns inferno. His body alights with flames straight from within that immolated the now empty half corpse and engulfed the crushed soul he held in his triumphant hand. With this surge of emotions and power the being raised both cremating trophies and let's loose an act of primal magic so potent the world shook. The being now named Roared to the heavens fire, rage, pride, relief and strength barrelled out taking the form of multicoloured flames that tore the sky asunder and destroyed entire city blocks located on the sides of this giant bowl he now found himself in. When the solar storm of his star, his soul finally waned, and the thunderous cacophony of strength ceased. After all the fire had diminished and the rubble finally settled from where it was disturbed. It was after the ashes of his conquest had fully cascaded around his feet that the newly named being was addressed from behind.

"Well that was impressive now wasn't it." With a sudden jolt, the being turned around arm raised hand cupped the command for crush ready and waiting to turn his target to a splattered remnant of a memory. Only for his arm to fall limply to his side. It would do no good against this new target because there directly facing the named being was a god. "I do believe this is our first meeting this time… or at least this place. I hope you don't mind my interrupting your kill, but I was horribly bored just waiting for you to be done, little lord." The silence dragged on as the named being bored witness to a god made true. Not some being of flesh that was in an understandable shape or form no what he witnessed here was a being who had seen eternity and, in the end, found it lacking. It was colossal but shape and size where truly nothing to a god but the form it took seared itself into the mind of the named being all the same. A large coalescence of screaming flaming tendrils in the shape of a cloak or shroud from which to streams of darkness reached out to clutch the podium while from behind to titanic arms humanoid in shape but appearing to be made of marble or some other white stone reached out to grasp one massive sun the fingers of each hand slowly turning black from the heat. The named being new that if this god was to bring its full force to bear its mere presence would incinerate this entire plane of existence. "I'm flattered that you are so mesmerised by my appearance, but we have some things to discuss do we not." The god asked once more. Unable to respond the named being simply looked around for some means to communicate.

As he got down to start drawing something in the dirt a slender, delicate hand fell to rest on his cheek, its skin was see through and inside one could see blood red lightning firing between shimmering points of light. It guided his face upwards once more, then he could hear the sound of spring, feel the beauty of sunshine dancing on water and breath the purity of mountain air untouched. "Fret not little lord here your thoughts are not yours, they are for all of us." With this understanding sparked in his mind.

 _Can you hear me now my god?_

"Yes, very good little lord, you are so quick to learn the true ways. But just a reminder one cannot hear thoughts as they are not audible." As the god said this the suns in its grasp seemed to emanate warmth. "Now for introductions my named being, you may refer to me as Ythira I am the unborn god who sings into life the engines of destruction and who's love laid waste to all of creation." With Ythira's name uttered understanding flooded the named being, his sun was encompassed by a wave of fire and light and with this, he knew Ythira and his understanding of just what an unborn was expanded even further. "Now that you know me, allow me to introduce my kin." With a silent explosion of darkness, one more unborn appeared in the bowl of cities. Unlike Ythira it had no distinguishable features at all it was a massive towering piece of space shattered and shaped in such a way that when the light hit it you could make it out but not discern anything else about it. Behind the towering shattered piece of space was a circle made of two golden feathered, screaming serpent creatures that made no noise but could be heard all the same. They were constantly writhing around each other not consuming one another but just circling and twisting around one another as they moved in rotation.

With a sound like an implosion, the being spoke to the named being who was beginning to feel somewhat overwhelmed in the presence of two gods. "Greetings, unlike Ythira I know for a fact this is our first meeting this time and this place… in that order. So, it seems objects are in motion and you have arrived here lost lord, this is good, and you have been blooded and taken apart the only chain that could ever threaten you this is most acceptable. First, most know my title little-lost lord I am unborn, and my name is not to be mistreated so treasure it. I am Quintith the final second of the new universe and the last fond memory never shared." With his piece said Quintith conjured a seat made of crystal time that hurt to look at. The named being nodded his head back and forth slowly as he absorbed the new information that was introduced to his sun as series of injects circling it and slowly becoming one with its orbit piece by piece. But before he could even finish setting his mind at ease an earthquake shook him to his core as suddenly what must have once been a bustling kingdom exploded outwards showing the civilizations below it. Exiting out from the explosion of rubble was what could only be the last of the unborn. It was a moving hunk of flesh teeth and bones structured to be perfect. It marched forward crushing derelict cities in its wake with two hulking arms both as big as its torso, each arm was covered in fur… no, it was covered in shimmering shadow that was in constant motion and hypnotising to bear witness to. It walked with its arms much like a gorilla. Each arm was attached to a hulking female chest with two breasts covered in scales so huge the named being could have laid down in one and still had room to move. Its back had two enormous bats like wings covered in eyes that each changed colour whenever they blinked, they easily could have engulfed both his fellow gods with their span. Its lower body was made entirely out of chitinous segments that split into three identical barbed tails, each barb splitting open with a crack to snap at the world around them. It was the head that enraptured his attention the most. A gorgeous and beautiful serpent shimmering like an opal its face had no eyes and he could see mesmerising liquid purple flames flicker from its beaked nostrils. A gorgeous mane of pure silver light rained down its long neck before merging and disappearing into the shadowed fur over its shoulders.

Without warning one tail lunged forward smashing into the podium and launching the named being into the depths of the crater he had made. When the dust settled, and he glanced up he saw the same barbed tail reared back and ready to plunge into him and add his smeared form to that of Voldemort's. The named being with will tempered by an eternal purgatory and strength fuelled by unending pain he dragged a clawed hand across the air and let loose his most powerful piece of magic _"REND!"_ The shimmering arcs of pure power tore the air its self apart fraying the very space the past through only to shatter upon impact with a god's tail. Or so he thought. With startling suddenness, a drop of something very cold impacted his nose and dripped into his eye socket where he heard a sizzling sound soon after. The drops continued to rain, and the named being was shocked to see their origin, it came from a small cut on the gods tail… one he must have made. After this conclusion, a voice like the roar of a dragon or some equally impossible creature whispered to him.

"It seems you are most certainly the little lord we have been waiting for lost one." With a gentleness, that emanated truce the tail grasped him in a firm but gentle hold using its clawed barb end. It lifted him from the crater and laid him to rest on an undamaged part of the podium. "Well met little beast, I am the roar of kings subjugated and the rushing maw that tore death asunder, I am the unborn god most wild you can call me Shauk-Vra I am most excited to meet you but like Ythira I strongly doubt this is our first meet considering your strong grasp of primal magics." And with this, the named being was suddenly in the presence of all the remaining unborn gods, who for some reason seemed eager to meet him a lost and broken being. Questions needed answering and fast.

 _I am confused how do you know me my unborn by what means did I come to be here and who am I to you._

It was Quintith who answered calmly his voice still sound like the condensing of pure matter. "We know you because of what you are, a forgotten child of an uncaring world, a sacrificed mother and warrior father who died usurped from his throne. You came to be here by our will and the will of our missing brother Typhon and you are Harrison James Potter a lost and broken creature made into the conquering existence before us now and your name is to be made yours now. From your past, you are Harrison James Potter, heir to house Potter and Black of the magical kingdom of Great Britain." Harry suddenly named was given all his memories from his life on earth whole and untainted. But before he could even begin to dissect what he had been told a radiant warmth engulfed him followed by the enchanting voice of Ythira causing his inner sun to hum.

"In the present, you are the found soul of the lost purgatory, the hero of a dead race and shattered realm. The one to be presented with the title Lord of the eclipse and herald of the unborn the catalyst for the apocalypse. The mortal who drew blood from an unborn." The thought of pride and joy were not his but rather a freely given thought from the unborn god Ythira herself. Suddenly he was looking into the abyssal black holes contained within the final unborn's eyes.

"But most importantly in this future and another you are the conqueror of Typhon, you are the one who shall return to us our lost brother in all his might and glory. And this is where that quest will begin." Her voice cried out like a phoenix with hope passion and pure joy that Harry James Potter, Lord of the eclipse, herald of the apocalypse, heir of houses Potter and Black and future conqueror of Typhon felt his soul surge and his face take a grin equal part wonder and pride.


End file.
